Driving Miss Granger
by Laurielove
Summary: After a visit to Malfoy Manor, Hermione reluctantly and unexpectedly has to ask her boyfriend's father for a lift. What could possibly go wrong? M readers only. Fluff and filthy fun. HG/LM. One shot.


**After the relentless misery of Through a Glass Darkly (ongoing ...), I needed something more light-hearted, and missed my little Lumione one-shots. (Not that this is particularly little.) So here you are.**

 **It starts off as fluffy niceness, but then, as I'm inclined to do, they have sex. And then they have more sex. And, goddamn it, they just won't stop having sex. Just sayin' - there's A LOT of sex in this one. But it's still fluffy.**

 **Couple of other things: Demelza Hart (me) has quite a decent book out called _A Twist of Fate_. I hope it's my best. Proper, full length novel available in paperback or ebook. And it's got a lot of sex in it. And love. And romance (and, come to think of it, moonlight, but not much music). Give it a go and give it a review. It's absolutely f***ing amazing, trust me. (I would say that, wouldn't I? But I mean it with this one.)**

 **Extra tasks for this one: Spot the nods to a) Potter Puppet Pals (sort of a turned on its head nod) and b) My other JI obsession (the one with the hook on his arm). You get browny points if you get them.**

 **And I have a Facebook page if you're interested in more fun and frolics. Laurielove. There was a great post the other day with all kinds of good things in red coats.**

 **Okay, I'll shut up now. (You may want to make sure you're alone with the door closed for this one.) LL x**

* * *

Hermione Granger had never felt comfortable calling Draco Malfoy her boyfriend.

She hated the word anyway. Surely when one reached a certain age (18, one would think), a more suitable term could be applied to someone who was friend, lover, support, comfort, advisor all in one.

But then, Draco had never really been many of those. Friend? Surprisingly, yes. Lover? Of sorts. (Much promised, never entirely delivered.) Support? Occasionally. Comfort? Definitely not. Advisor? Don't be ridiculous.

Yet the more she thought about it, the more he fitted the bill - boyfriend. She would quite happily call him a friend, and he was still very much a boy. But the trouble was, she didn't want a boy.

So, 19 months after starting their curious, much commented-on relationship, they ended it. Or rather, she ended it. It had been nice. An experiment of sorts, she conceded. She admired his ability to reform after the war, his contrition, his genuine remorse, and had been flattered by the fact that he seemed to have a permanent hard-on around her, something which had escaped her notice at school, although he later admitted he'd fancied her for an age.

But people liked them being together. They seemed to feed off the irony of it. If Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy could be happy together, then the world now truly was a wonderful place.

During their time together, weekends at Malfoy Manor became frequent. Not that Hermione saw much of either of his parents, who had divorced shortly after the war. Narcissa no longer lived at the Manor, and his father was always notable by his absence. Draco would tell Hermione that he was away on business, but Hermione sometimes glanced the tall, haughty form of Lucius Malfoy in a distant corridor. He chose to keep out of her way. Even after the healing of time and changing circumstances, he hated her.

She tried not to let it bother her. She laughed it off. It was his loss after all. Everyone changed, didn't they? He could have given her a chance, as she would give him a chance, but it was rare he even deigned to give her a brief nod of acknowledgement. The Manor was large enough for him to hide away when she was around, although he did at least seem to tolerate her relationship with Draco.

Lucius' deliberate absence frustrated her as much as anything, but then, that was probably what he wanted. She found him interesting, intriguing even. She always had. She tried not to think about it. When she thought about him, her mind led her into places she'd rather not go.

And anyway, now she was no longer with Draco, she wondered if she'd ever go back to the Manor. She'd grown to love it, despite previous associations. Draco hadn't wanted to split, but had acknowledged that their relationship had no real depth or future. They were still friends. And he still seemed permanently to have the horn for her, she noted. They hadn't yet announced their split to anyone, including his parents.

On this, her latest visit to the Manor, and possibly her last, she knew Lucius was there. She'd passed him in the corridor one evening. He'd pretended not to acknowledge her and she'd done the same. They walked past as if the other didn't exist. But then she'd paused and turned and looked back. And much to her surprise Lucius Malfoy was doing the same. Their eyes met for the briefest moment before she dropped hers and moved on. But she hadn't gone into his son's room for the night. He'd seen that.

Late the following day, she had a train to catch. She was due at a meeting in Oxford the day after and had intended to leave and settle into a hotel. Hermione often caught the train. It reminded her of Hogwarts. She'd said goodbye to Draco and he'd taken himself away to a distant part of the house to do some work. She'd quietly apparate from the manor to the station. But the weather had been gloomy all day, with approaching clouds from the north, and now it was starting to rain. Thunder threatened. You couldn't apparate in a thunderstorm. And she still needed to get to the station.

Draco had important work that wouldn't benefit from an interruption. There was nothing for it. She would find his father and ask if someone could give her a lift.

For once, she came across him quickly. He was in a small study she often passed. Through a chink in the door, she could see a long leg extending out as he sat reading. She knocked.

'Yes?'

That same imperious voice. It caused a lurch of her insides that was a combination of his old ability to intimidate and something else she tried to ignore.

Hermione pushed the door open a little and stepped in. He looked up and she noted a widening of his eyes in surprise.

'The weather's changing,' she said, taking a deep breath.

'How observant of you,' he sneered. The room was already dark because of the overcast sky outside.

'I need to get to the station. I'm supposed to be leaving.'

'Good.'

'I can't apparate in weather like this. There could be thunder. I was wondering if … if there was any chance I could have someone drive me or something. Draco's busy and I don't want to bother him.'

'Draco doesn't drive any of my cars anyway. Only I drive them.'

'Right, well, we didn't come in a car and if there's no one else to give me a lift … I'll have to stay another night.'

He looked up again, his face tight at the prospect.

She turned to leave. It was hopeless reasoning with the bloody man.

'Wait, Miss Granger.' She stopped and looked back. Malfoy threw his paper down and stood up. He was taller than she remembered.

'I'll drive you myself.'

The offer took her aback. 'You?'

'Yes. I can drive, you know.'

She had to admit, she was surprised. She'd never thought Lucius Malfoy would go near a Muggle invention. 'Thank you.'

'I don't want you staying under my roof any longer than is strictly necessary.'

She crossed her arms at his predictability. 'Right. How generous of you.'

'Come. I'll take you now.'

'Right now?'

'Yes.'

He paced out ahead of her. Fortunately, she was ready. She gathered her bags and followed behind him down some stairs to a large garage. For a moment she gaped. It was full of cars: classics, luxury, high performance. In the brief time she had, she spotted an Aston Martin and a Ferrari, amongst others.

He led her towards a Jaguar XJR. She slowed her pace and stopped to admire it. 'Nice car.'

'Hmm.' He seemed almost pleased she'd commented and paused to look at it too.

She crossed her arms and cocked her head. 'Still a car though.'

'And by that you mean?'

'Made my muggles. Works for muggles. No magic.' She eyed him carefully. She was trying to wind him up. By his tone of voice, it was working.

'Quality speaks for itself.'

'Even muggle quality?'

He didn't answer. For a moment he seemed to hesitate, as if he was thinking of actually opening the door for her, but then thought better of it and paced swiftly around to his side. Hermione gave herself a wry smirk and got in. The rich leather seats spoke immediately of comfort and luxury. She wriggled back against them. 'I could get used to this.'

'Don't.' He had sat in the driver's seat and was pulling on his seat belt.

She daren't look at him but couldn't conceal her amused smile. He started the engine, the garage doors opened silently, and they purred out of Malfoy Manor and down the drive.

He drove well. Effortlessly well. He clearly loved driving. He guided the beautiful car around the bends as if he was completely at one with the vehicle, as if it was another child he was used to coaxing the best from. Hermione was enjoying the ride. She hoped the station wasn't too close.

The rain was getting heavier. The skies up ahead were yet darker and they were heading for them. She rather enjoyed that too. It had an ominous romantic quality to it. Hermione frowned at her own thoughts. Romantic. The words romantic and Lucius Malfoy didn't go together.

She turned to him. He stared resolutely ahead, refusing even to glance at her. He hadn't spoken a word since setting out.

'Thanks for this,' she tried.

No response.

'It's rather a treat,' she said. 'A ride in a Jag.'

'Like I said, don't get used to it.'

She chuckled.

'What?' he asked tersely.

'What what?'

Malfoy frowned. 'What's funny? I meant it. This will not be repeated.'

'Sharing your car with a Muggle-born?'

'Sharing my car with … you.'

'I've slept with your son, Mr Malfoy, I think you could possibly reappraise your attitude towards me. Times change. Circumstances change. Attitudes change.'

He pursed his lips. 'Some things remain.'

'What? You being a prejudiced, duplicitous ponce?'

'A what?'

'A ponce. Arrogant. Full of yourself. Pretentious.'

He sneered but didn't reply.

'You must have loved it when you heard Draco and I were an item.'

'I was … ecstatic.'

'Well, you've put up with it, I'll give you that.'

'How kind.'

The rain was getting heavier. The wind was picking up.

Hermione looked ruefully at the sky. 'I haven't seen the forecast recently. There must've been weather warnings about this.'

'There have, but I'm not going to let the small matter of a bit of rain stop me from getting you out of my house.'

It was lashing it down. The windscreen wipers worked frantically. 'This is worse than a bit of rain.'

The road wound on through a wood, along narrow country lanes, but the car clung to them despite the conditions. She had to admit, she felt remarkably safe with him driving.

But around another bend he suddenly stopped abruptly, braking hard. She gasped in a breath. A tree had fallen up ahead and was blocking the road completely. 'Bloody hell! I didn't see that at all!'

'Then it's a good job I did. And here I was thinking you were always one step ahead of the rest of us, Miss Granger.'

'Don't be an arse.'

He turned his head around to reverse, placing his hand on the back of her seat. She thought she could detect the slightest grin.

'Where now then?' she asked. He didn't answer. 'Are you going back to the Manor?'

'I told you. I'm not going to let a bit of weather keep you in my home.'

She crossed her arms. 'Tell me, Mr Malfoy, do you work hard to be the rudest man alive or does it come naturally?'

This time his smirk wasn't concealed. 'You provide such inspiration, Miss Granger.'

'Glad I could help. You do realise the trains probably won't run in this? This could be an entirely wasted journey.'

'Not for me.'

'You'll leave me at a deserted country station in the pouring rain?'

He didn't speak but took a turning down a side road, presumably trying to find a way around the tree. It was barely paved and after a while became a rough track, full of pot holes, increasingly muddy.

'I'm really not sure this is a good idea. You need a tractor, not a high performance luxury saloon.'

And she was almost immediately proved right. He struggled on for a moment longer before coming to a thick, mud-clagged halt. The wheels spun. He tried forward and back. Nothing. They were well and truly stuck. The rain continued to beat down and the wind raged so strongly it buffeted the steel framework of the car.

'Fuck,' said Malfoy, soft but clear. And that was all. He turned the engine off and let his head fall back on the head rest.

Hermione reached for her wand. She didn't have it. She tried to take her mind off magic when away from work, and in recent years the level of threat had dropped so much that wands for protection were rarely needed. She'd left it at home. For once, she cursed her stupidity. With a sigh, she turned to Malfoy. 'Have you got …?'

He was already shaking his head. 'I was only taking you to the station so I left it behind. Stupid fool that I am. I should have known you'd bring me bad luck.'

'It's a storm, Mr Malfoy. Even I can't control the weather.'

He turned and cocked an eyebrow. 'And who's arrogant now?'

'We could try wandless magic.'

'Not on a muggle car. Ironically, wandless magic doesn't work well on muggle objects.'

'And we can't apparate in this weather.' She reached for her phone and frowned down at it. 'No signal. You really are out in the middle of nowhere. Have you got one?'

He looked dubiously at her phone. 'One of those?'

'Yes.'

'Don't be ridiculous.'

'Useful. Not as cute as an owl, but there's no need to feed it and it doesn't crap everywhere.'

Another slight smirk.

Silence fell between them. 'We could walk,' she offered after a while.

'In this weather? We've come at least five miles. There's no point.'

'So that's that then. Wait until it passes and some lovely farmer comes along and helps us out.'

'It would seem that way.'

She sighed. 'Sorry. I feel bad that I dragged you out in it.'

'I do not require your regret or sympathy, Miss Granger. It was my decision.'

She glanced at him. He spoke so carefully and, even now, kept such fastidious control over his reactions. She almost admired it. Would it be so bad to pass time with this curious man?

'Ooh!' She suddenly remembered something. 'Look what I've got!'

Reaching into her bag, Hermione took out a bottle of Rioja. She'd brought it to drink at the Manor but never got round to it. 'And chocolate! What more does anyone need?'

'A noose?'

'For me?' she laughed.

'For me … the prospect of spending an entire night with you in a car in the rain is enough for me to contemplate departing this world prematurely.'

'You do have a way with words, Mr Malfoy.'

He frowned and slight lines formed around his eyes. She studied them as he asked, 'Why do you insist on calling me Mr Malfoy? It is some strange distorted form of passive aggression?'

'It's either that or Loathsome Bastard. Which would you prefer?'

'Just … oh for Merlin's sake, just call me Lucius.'

'Gosh! Progress. Steady on. You'll be whispering sweet nothings and buying me chocolates next.' She grinned and expected another rebuke. Instead, she saw the flickering of another smirk. She rather liked it.

'You've already got the chocolates, apparently.' Pause. 'You might as well open them.'

Smiling to herself, something that seemed to spread deep inside her, she undid the packaging and offered the box to him. 'Hard or soft?'

Lucius hesitated then looked sidelong at her. 'Hard on the outside … with a soft inside.'

A strange curl of pleasure moved through her. 'I thought as much.'

'And which do you prefer, Miss Granger?'

'I like the ones which are quite tough to start with, but once you start rolling them around in your mouth, they just melt.' She was flirting with Lucius Malfoy. And she was enjoying it.

'Are you trying to embarrass me?'

'No. I doubt I could do that.'

'Correct. You couldn't.' He put the chocolate into his mouth. She caught a glimpse of his tongue as he placed it on it. It was one of those intensely sensual moments you feel guilty for witnessing. In Hermione's case, she felt even guiltier because that feeling inside her grew stronger.

Time for Rioja. Definitely. She picked up the bottle. 'We may as well make a start on the wine. There's nothing else to do. I think even our magic could extend to opening a bottle of wine, but I can't extend to glasses, I'm afraid. We'll have to share.'

'Hm. I just so happen to …' Lucius reached behind, stretching out his long body, and opened a small compartment in the back seat from where he produced two plastic beakers.

'What are those doing there?' she laughed.

'My son is rather fond of picnics. I'm surprised you haven't discovered this. We always have some in the car for such eventualities.'

'Outstanding! Well, go on then!' She held the beakers out and he poured a considerable amount into each one.

Hermione was about to take a sip then glanced at him and held out her beaker towards him. 'Cheers. Here's to time passing easily.'

At first he seemed about to ignore her, but then, without speaking, he reached over and touched his beaker to hers. She took a large swig. He did the same. She felt the rich, dark liquid flowing through her, immediately bringing her warm happiness.

'That's better,' she sighed. 'Marques de Murrieta. Decent bottle.'

'For once I agree.'

'Thanks again for the lift. I should have asked Draco but he was busy with his work.'

'I wouldn't have let him drive any of my cars anyway.'

'He's not ten anymore, you know.'

'Well … you say that …'

She chuckled. 'He can still be a bit … unformed at times. I suppose that's why we …'

'Why you what?'

'Never mind.'

'I must admit, Miss Granger … your relationship with Draco is rather intriguing.'

'Yes. It's intriguing to me too. I don't know. I suppose we were attracted by the paradox of it, the unlikelihood of it.'

'Opposites attract and all that?' He was looking over at her. She turned and met his eyes. He was definitely her opposite.

'Yes. Something like that.' She felt herself blushing and was grateful for the gloom inside the car. She dropped her head quickly. 'I don't know. The war changed us all. He changed a lot. Or perhaps he simply found the freedom to be who he truly wanted.'

'What does that mean?'

'I think he felt he had to behave in a certain way before. He had a lot of expectations heaped on him.'

He sniffed derisively. 'There is nothing wrong with wanting the best for your son.'

'Even if that means becoming the puppet of the Dark Lord?'

Silence.

She continued, 'Anyway, we were only meant to be friends. The rest … wasn't right.'

'Wasn't?'

She sighed. 'Oh God, I may as well tell you – we've split up.'

He looked over, genuinely surprised. 'When?'

'A couple of weeks ago. But we're still good friends. I came here this weekend as a friend, that's all.'

'Hence why you weren't sleeping with my son last night.'

'That's right. I wondered if you'd notice. That side of things … never really worked, to be honest.'

'Spare me the details.'

'I wasn't going to inflict them on you anyway,' she tutted.

He was quiet briefly, but then curiosity got the better of him and he asked with a certain smugness, 'Was my son too demanding of you?'

'What?' She bristled.

'Did he have high expectations? Expectations that you felt unable to live up to perhaps.' His voice contained the same arrogance his expression held.

Hermione leaned forward indignantly. Was he actually saying what she thought he was saying? 'Seriously? Are you suggesting I couldn't keep up with him in bed?'

'That's not what I said.'

'That's what you bloody meant though! And there you were telling me not to go into detail. If you must know, it was more the opposite. I …'

He was studying her intently, a faint smile on his lips. 'You what, Miss Granger?'

'I'm the one with high expectations, Mr Malfoy.'

'Really? How very interesting.'

'For once, you sound like you mean that.'

'I had you down as the bookish sort. Hot cocoa and bed by nine. Alone.'

She slumped back in the seat, crossing her arms. 'God, you're a prat. We all have needs, you know. And, like I said, war changes things. When you've been through what I've been through, you live every moment of your life like it's your last.'

'Heaven forbid my last moment on earth is being stuck next to you in my car eating a walnut whip while it pisses it down outside.'

Silence. Then she let out an involuntary snorting giggle. He was funny. She liked it. He glanced over and let a smile play on his mouth. He had a nice smile. Lucius met her eyes and she didn't look away.

'What?' he asked.

'What do you mean?'

'You're looking at me.'

' _You're_ looking at _me_ ,' she repeated.

'You were laughing.'

'You're funny.'

'Funny? I don't like the sound of that.'

'Funny ha ha, not funny weird.'

'So I'm not weird?' He cocked an elegant eyebrow.

'No.'

'What a relief. I can suffer most epithets, but weird is not one of them.'

'You are, however, slightly alternative.'

'I can live with that. I like the sound of that.'

She smiled. He rested his head back and took another drink. She watched as his Adam's apple lurched as he swallowed it down.

'You're better looking than your son.' Where the hell had that come from? She dropped her head and turned away in embarrassment, muttering, 'Sorry,' as much to herself as him.

He turned to her and, although she wasn't looking, she felt herself flushing bright red. 'Really, Miss Granger? And what makes you say that?'

'I don't know. I'm sorry. It just came out. But … there it is.'

'So you don't retract it?'

'No.'

'I suppose I should say thank you.'

'No. Don't. Just … don't say anything.'

He didn't. They sat silently, although the atmosphere had changed. Despite the embarrassment she had just inflicted on herself, the silence was not an awkward one. She risked glancing across at him again. His head was back as it had been and he looked completely at ease. He really was stupidly handsome. She took another drink and refilled her glass, reaching across and doing the same to his. He didn't object.

'Sometimes … occasionally … I have wondered.' He spoke slowly, his eyes still closed. It made her even more curious.

'Wondered what?' she asked.

'What it would have been like if you had been born a pureblood.'

'Why should it be any different to how I am now?'

'You know I don't think like that.'

'You know I think that's a load of bullshit.'

He sniffed a laugh.

'Well …?' she pressed.

'What?'

'What do you wonder at those times?'

'I wonder what could have been achieved, perhaps, although all things considered, I am rather glad things turned out how they did.'

'I'm glad to hear you say that. And what about me then? What would you have thought of me if I had been a Pureblood?'

'I would have regarded you with more … respect.'

She could tell the word stuck in his throat but once he'd said it, he seemed to mean it.

'How gracious of you, Lucius.'

She thought that was it, but then, eyes still closed, he continued. 'I would have thought you … intuitive, loyal, determined, caring, exceptionally clever …' He paused and looked across at her. 'And incredibly beautiful.'

For a moment she was struck dumb. For a moment their eyes locked and she wanted to … But then she remembered herself, remembered her duty to be indignant with this man and so instead she said, 'But I'm not a Pureblood. I'm Muggle born … so I'm none of those things to you.'

He said nothing, but lifted his beaker and took another long drink, all the while keeping his eyes trained on her over the rim. A dull ache had taken hold in her gut.

They sat silently for a time, drinking softly, listening to the lashing of the rain on the glass. Hermione could not remember a time she had been so relaxed. Sitting in a car with a former Death Eater, she was completely at peace. The paradox of it made her giggle. Perhaps the wine had gone to her head. She put her hand up to stifle her titters.

'What?' he asked.

'Nothing. Just … this.' She gesticulated around her, throwing her hand out to the side. She inadvertently knocked his hand, the one holding the beaker. Wine sloshed out and onto his trousers.

'Oh God! I'm so sorry. I'm so bloody clumsy sometimes.' She fumbled for a tissue in her pocket.

'It doesn't matter. They're black. And they'll wash. Really.'

'No, honestly, let me …' She started to dab at his trousers. The wine soaked in quickly and she took out another, tutting and apologising further. 'Oh shit, sorry. It's quite a lot. I really, really am sorry.'

'Miss Granger, it is of no consequence, there's no need for you to …'

She had leaned right over to try to wipe off as much as possible. And then she became aware of just how close she was to him. He was there, right there. And he smelt so good. And she could hear his breath, deep and low, in and out. She turned her head towards him. He met her eyes again. His eyes shone, even in the gloom of a stormy night. The rain continued to beat down on the car. It poured down the windows, obscuring all else. There was nothing else. Just the two of them together. Now.

She wasn't sure who moved first. She thought it must have been her but afterwards she wasn't sure.

Their lips met. Soft. Warm. Ready. It was a gentle kiss, considerate and curious. And then they remembered who they were and just as suddenly as they'd come together, they pulled apart, both of them shocked.

Hermione took in a deep breath and sat back, bolt upright in her seat. 'Sorry. I'm sorry. I … really … I don't know what … Sorry.'

'No, it's nothing … just … that's fine … no … all … fine.'

'It's just, you know, here … and the storm and … being stuck in the car and …'

'Yes, that's it … yes … rain … it's difficult to … yes … as you say …'

'Just silly really. So silly. Won't happen again. Sorry. Never. You know. Just … not again.'

'No. Silly. Like you said. Not again.'

She darted a glance at him. And they were back into each other, lips mashing together, teeth colliding, tongues dancing. He held her head and kissed her so hard it hurt but she loved it. She opened for him and let him take all he could. Her hands were on his clothes, struggling to find buttons and undo them.

He kissed down her neck and she bared it, wishing she could be rid of her clothes. She left his for a moment to tug at her own and managed to struggle out of her top while still keeping her lips on him as much as possible. With a groan he slipped down to kiss over the plump rise of her breasts. She slipped her fingers through his hair to hold him there while her other hand slid her bra straps off her shoulders. He took the cue and lifted her left right breast from the cup. She got what she wanted. With little hesitation he took the nipple in his mouth. She gasped as pleasure started lapping its way through her.

But at that he pulled up, his grey eyes bright with lust but his face serious. 'Here?' He sounded unsure.

'Yes. Oh God, yes, here.'

'I can't stop this,' he said again and she loved the hesitation this usually assured man was showing. It revealed a fragility which was both appealing and intriguing. She took his head in her hands and kissed him again.

'I don't want you to stop.' After another deep kiss she guided him back to her breasts, having now successfully removed her bra completely. He went at her with more fervour now, tonguing her nipples, sucking hard, nipping with teeth. Oh God, he was good, better than she could have thought, better than his son … much better …

Her clit throbbed for touch, her tummy turned over with need. He manoeuvred himself onto her and managed to lower the seat at the same time. She laughed at the teenage awkwardness of it, but then not many teenagers made out in a brand new Jaguar. He met her laugh with a smirk but then silenced her with his mouth again. She felt for his zip but his hands kept hers at bay. He was exploring instead, up the inside of her thighs, higher. Hermione bit her lip expectantly. She wanted him inside her but was curious as to how he'd approach things. She got her answer when long fingers slid under her knickers and pushed right into the warm wetness of her.

His hiss met her gasp. Lucius Malfoy's fingers were deep up inside her. And it was fucking amazing. When he had coated himself fully in her juices he pulled out only to tease her, circling around the fat, hungry bud so desperate for his touch. But it was perfect. She held his eyes and he didn't look away. He studied her almost, reading her every reaction, bringing her close carefully and slowly, not rushing it, and despite her longing, she would wait for him.

'Who would have thought it?' he said at one point, softly under his breath, but with that familiar Malfoy drawl. Before, she'd hated it, now it was the sexiest thing ever. She bucked against his fingers and he rewarded her with a hard rub … so close she groaned loudly.

'I want …'

'What?' he hushed against her.

'I want you inside me.'

'Nearly,' he murmured with indulgent languor.

'I want to …'

'What?'

'I don't want to come yet. I want you inside me now. Please.'

'Begging, Miss Granger?'

'Yes. I'm begging you.' And with that he took his hand from her sex and before she could even miss it, he had manoeuvred himself atop her and was where she wanted him in one fluid push. Deep. Hard. Long and full. Her eyes closed in blissful completion. But Christ he was big. And God, he was right.

'Oohh … fuck!' What more could she say? He chuckled, then, when she clenched hard on him, it became a swallowed moan and he followed it with an expletive to mirror hers.

'Fuck, you are tight, witch.'

'You make me tight. You're so … big!' He'd thrust hard up into her again, making her back arch. They wouldn't last long, this first time. He'd been patient enough when he'd fingered her, now the urgency of their coupling clouded on the windows, blotting out the storm which still battled outside. Their breath collided, sound and heat, as he went at her with an almost mad determination. He grunted with each drive forward and she took him with throaty moans of her own.

Hermione came first, releasing the orgasm she'd wanted to give him from the moment their lips had touched. She came loudly, not afraid to let him know what he'd done to her. They were far away from anyone, from anything, they existed solely for the other and she wanted to scream it out. And it was so good that it ripped out of her with a force that took her by surprise. It prompted his own come, deep and pulsing. His eyes, which he'd kept fixed on her during their fuck, now closed as rapture robbed him of focus. She clung to the hard muscle of his arm as his hard cock spurted into her.

When he'd given her every drop he could, the ecstatic tension that had captured him dissipated and he slumped onto her, panting hard.

For a time they stayed there in silence, crammed together on the front passenger seat. Her arm rested lazily over his back and he rested his head against the crook of her neck.

'What just happened there?' she asked at length, disbelief creeping into her.

'Great sex,' he replied with factual calmness. She let out a laugh and clenched on him. He was still admirably warm and large inside her.

She moved her head and he met her eyes again. She reached over and stroked a damp hair from his face. 'I think I've wanted to do that for longer than I care to admit.'

'How long?'

'Quite long.'

'Tell me.'

'Umm …'

'Don't be shy, Miss Granger. Before you and Draco?'

She nodded. 'Before the war.'

His eyebrows rose up. 'When you were still a schoolgirl?'

'I'm allowed the odd indulgent fantasy.'

'Is that what I was, an indulgent fantasy?'

'You're not a fantasy any longer.'

He smirked and reached up to kiss her. She kissed back, long and slow. When he broke away she held him as he continued to graze over her hot skin. 'What now?' she murmured.

'We move onto the back seats. After all, we have all the time we need.'

'You don't regret?'

'Miss Granger … after that? No, I don't regret.'

She kissed him again. 'Me neither.'

Lucius withdrew carefully and climbed as smoothly as was possible into the back. Hermione reached for a tissue and wiped herself. Malfoy seed. Every time Draco had come inside her, she could only admit to a slight feeling of disgust. Not this time. She studied it almost reverently before taking off the rest of her clothes and joining him in the back.

'Now, Miss Granger,' he purred. 'Let's slow things down a bit.'

Once again he began exploring her body, lingering on her breasts which he cupped, plying the downy flesh, pushing the nipples deep into his mouth. She was ready again, she knew it. This man built her desire over and over again. She knew he would. She'd dreamt it and she was right. Her perfect lover.

His tongue thrummed over her right nipple so that it grew fat and hard and tingled for more. She groaned and pushed onto him, making him bite down on it with sudden harshness. She cried out but the pain merely shot through to her clit, making it throb, and her cry faded into a moan of anticipation.

'You hold them,' he said, guiding her hands to her breasts. She took hold of her nipples and pinched, harder than usual. Pain had blurred into pleasure, sensation was everything and everywhere. Malfoy continued moving down her body but kept his eyes trained upwards to her. He smiled as he saw her fingers twisting her dark pink nipples. 'That's right. Good girl.'

He knelt between her legs, pushing her left leg to the side and raising her right so that it rested bent on the back. 'Miss Granger … you really are a sight for sore eyes.'

She groaned, her body heated with tension and need. If he didn't do it soon, she'd die. 'Oh fuck, please!' she cried, trying to take his head and guide it to her. He eluded her.

'Patience. You say you've thought about this for many years. What's a few more seconds, hmm?'

'Lick me!' she demanded, forgetting herself and prompting a chuckle from him.

'I intend to, just … let me …' Fingers were parting her outer lips, opening her up to him. He dipped his finger into her, circling high up inside, then pulled it out and – oh! – squeezed it carefully but remarkably easily into her arsehole. Her eyes flew open and she tried to sit up. He placed a large, strong hand on her stomach and eased her down again. 'Shh. Relax.'

He pushed the finger deeper and she took it, right in, the tight little hole stretching around it but welcoming this new intrusion. 'Ohh,' she sighed. 'I like that. Oh, I like that.' It was a moan, thoughts voiced unaware.

'Hasn't anyone done that to you before?'

By anyone, he of course meant his son. 'No,' she said. He'd withdrawn the finger a little and she wanted it back. She pushed down onto him but he took it out completely. She whined. But then – sting. He was back, more this time, two fingers. It hurt more and she gave a slight gasp.

'Shh,' he soothed again. He spat down onto the fingers and stroked. She felt it flower for him and he took the moment to push the fingertips in. Sting again, but good sting. She wanted more and he pushed. Her body resisted but her lust demanded it. He pushed through and was in her, two fingers, knuckle deep. A guttural cry was swallowed back. He worked them slowly so that she could feel her flesh accepting then pushing out as he moved. In and out, give and take, push and pull, expand, contract. Oh fucking bliss. She'd always been shy about that part of her, always guarded it. Not now. Oh, fuck, not now. And then, when she thought she could live like this forever, he lowered his head and licked.

She bucked. She nearly came. Suddenly and chaotically, her pleasure nearly raced out of her. But Malfoy knew and pulled away, soothing her, slowing his fingers. 'Careful. Concentrate, Miss Granger. Slow and steady.'

His other hand had parted her lips fully so that her clit was fully exposed for his tongue. He teased it, just the lightest of touches, then circled around it, avoiding its exquisite focused tenderness. She was dizzy with pleasure, her body on fire, from the fingers deep in her arse, to the squeezed nipples she still compressed as if her life depended on it. And his mouth – his tongue, his lips – licking, sucking, nuzzling. He licked from where his fingers were buried in her, right up, dipping into her dripping pussy, then over her lips until he found her clit again. She moaned aloud. 'Oh God, fucking God!'

He chuckled and applied himself to his task, long hard laves with the flat of his tongue, thrumming trills with the tip, lips that attached themselves to her flesh as if he needed it for sustenance. His fingers picked up their pace and her body let them, the stinging pain blending into sheer brilliant pleasure.

'Very well, Miss Granger, let us have it.' His head was down again and – fuck! – he sucked.

She came.

Her body juddered then was frozen as if forcing her to weather the wave of ecstasy that hit her with such force she was paralysed.

Her mouth opened and an unearthly wail rose from her. She almost forgot herself. She was convulsed with pleasure, blinded by the force of it. And it went on. His fingers worked like pistons and seemed to draw more from deep inside her, working not at her clit but the already beautiful come from the heart of her. She wondered if she'd survive it.

Then, after the longest orgasm she could remember, it rippled out of her, leaving her damp and heavy, slow and sleepy.

But in her dream state she was aware of him moving up. She opened her eyes to see him pumping his cock furiously over her. She was still holding her tits and they were sore now. She let them go, revealing them hard and red.

'I want to come on you. I want you dripping with me,' he slurred, his hand squeezing the livid head of his cock furiously.

She arched her back, propelling her tits closer for him. With the deepest, throbbing groan, he came, his cream spurting out of him to paint her breasts.

When he had squeezed every drop out, he knelt back and leant against the door, his eyes closed, his cock spent.

She sat up a little and caught his seed on her finger, bringing it to her lips and tasting a little. It was curious, not unpleasant. She did it again, loving the essence of him slipping down her body. As she wiped the rest with a tissue, she felt a strange sense of waste. Next time she would keep him.

They lay quietly for some time, minutes passed while they recovered. After a while, he opened his eyes and smirked over at her. 'Miss Granger … there's certainly more to you than I ever realised.'

'You don't have to call me that, you know. My name's Hermione.'

'I rather like calling you that.'

'And what should I call you?'

'Whatever you want.'

He looked at her, his eyes bright but his face soft in the dim light. He was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. 'Kiss me.' She demanded it; she needed it.

He crawled over her, braced with his arms on either side and lowered his head slowly to hers. His hair tickled as it fell over her and she loved it. Then their lips met and he kissed her hard, pushing her mouth open with his and slipping his tongue deep inside to find hers. She gave back to him, leaning into him, moaning for more. The kiss robbed them both of breath but she wanted that, she wanted that sense of danger she got with him, that slight dizziness and disorientation which made her question all she thought she knew. They kissed and kissed, deep, hard, tongue-deep kisses.

'Want to disappear into you. Want you to absorb me,' she murmured when he broke away for air. He chuckled before returning to her breast. She held him on her while he plied and pulled on the nipple.

'Harder,' she implored. 'Harder, harder, bite me, pinch me, please, please.'

So he did. Sharp teeth tugging, pulling, dragging the nipple up. She sucked in a breath and squeezed her eyes shut with the sudden pain but took it, used it, gained from it.

'How can I not want you? How can I not want all of you all the time?' he slurred, nesting in the valley of her breasts, pushing them together so that they cushioned him, before returning to her mouth and devouring her.

'Are you hard again?' she asked between panting breaths snatched from his lips. 'Please, please say yes. I want to taste you. I want to swallow you.'

'Give me a moment, witch,' he laughed. 'You really are insatiable.'

'Only with you, Malfoy. Oh God, I want your cock.'

'You don't mince your words, do you, girl?'

'Well, I always felt that honesty was the best policy.'

'Were you like this with your other lovers?'

'By other lovers, you mean Draco.'

'Yes.'

'No. Or anyone else.'

'So it's me, then?' he asked with languid arrogance.

She pulled him down for another kiss before confirming it. 'Yes. It's you. You are the most incredible lover I could ever imagine.'

'On that note … I think I may be ready.'

He sat up and revealed himself. Hard. Long.

At that moment, Hermione lived for it and only it. With a moan of expectation, she knelt in the foot well and, with a moment to appreciate the magnificence before her, she stuck out her tongue and licked. She licked from root to tip along the underside and Lucius Malfoy threw back his head and cried out. 'Oh, Merlin, you are good!'

'Tell me what you like.'

'I like you. I like anything you do.'

'Now, now, Mr Malfoy, be more specific.'

'Hell take you, witch! Just fucking suck me.'

With a smirk, she glanced up at him. 'Gladly.'

And as if she had been starved of nourishment for days, she closed her mouth around his thick mushroomed head and sucked.

'Oh fucking hell!' he hissed through gritted teeth. His head was flung back and he seemed beside himself. 'Fucking fucking hell!'

She sank lower, loving the feel of his hard meat as it sank further into her mouth, nudging her throat itself. 'Do that, do that, just like that.' He threw a hand down onto her head and pushed, sending her further yet onto his shaft.

Hermione kept him there for as long as her gag reflex allowed but then dragged herself back up, pulling off with a loud gasp and turning her eyes to his with panting breaths. His hand was still on her head and he guided her back. She did it again. Deep, hard sucking, tongue laving, cheeks tugging. He groaned this time, beyond words. Rendering this man who had typified power and privilege powerless in her mouth was the most fabulous sensation she could remember. And he tasted so good. Clean, hard, fresh and big. She never wanted to stop. She bobbed up and down on him now, learning him, testing him, seeing how hard he could take it, what pressure he liked. When she grew too ardent, he hissed and tightened his fingers in her hair and she relaxed the drag of her lips slightly – only slightly – he could learn to take her passion.

He started to move, bucking up into her mouth if she held back for too long, face fucking her. She thought about chiding him, pulling off and denying him the warm wetness of her mouth, but she loved his need and wanted to taste more of what he'd coated her in earlier. So she took hold of his balls and held them, gently at first then with growing intensity. He moaned a little but she soothed it off with a teasing lick over the glans. Her fingers tightened and this time a sob caught in his throat.

He'd come off like a rocket and she knew it. She was ready for it.

She sucked, pumping her cheeks around the rise of his cockhead, letting her tongue dance around the slit as he got higher and higher. Higher. Still she sucked, still she licked. His balls tightened in her hand and his fingers clenched in her hair. Then, as his roar sounded in her ears, her mouth was filled with come. Warm, slick, salty man pouring into her.

It was still raining. Outside, the weather raged at the car, but there they were cocooned in their little muggy world of intimate perfection.

She didn't release him for a while, but let him soften in her mouth. She swallowed him, something she didn't always like, but with him, now, there was never any doubt.

When at last he fell from the warmth of her mouth, he lay back against the seat, eyes closed, his face perfectly relaxed and content. She lay against him and felt his hand enfold her closer to him. And they fell asleep.

When Hermione opened her eyes she glanced at the time. 3:13 am. She inhaled deeply and smelt him again. He was asleep still. She let her fingers stroke over the smooth warmth of his chest. He was in remarkable shape for a man his age, but then fine wizards aged slowly, she reminded herself. Lucius had the body of a man half his age and would for some time. The thought brought a smile to her and she lowered her head and kissed his chest.

Who would have thought it? Stuck in a car in the rain with a man she hated – and happier than she could remember for an age. She giggled involuntarily. The man beneath her breathed in deeply and stirred.

'Sorry,' she whispered. 'I didn't mean to wake you.'

'Hm?' He rubbed his eyes, confused. She worried he'd remember himself and regret. But he smiled down and lifted her head for a soft kiss. But then he sucked in and pulled back. 'Bloody hell. Lying here for hours is death to my back. Fuck it!'

He sat up and stretched out his torso. She smirked. She liked hearing him swear; she'd always thought him too controlled even for that. She slid down into the foot well again. 'Here. Lie on your front along the seats. I'll give you a massage.'

He looked at her with a wry smile. 'Now there's an offer I can't refuse.' He lay down, fully removing his shirt in the process. She resisted licking the body before her.

'You are …' she sighed, starting to rub along the long lines of his elegant back.

'I am what? A prejudiced, duplicitous ponce, I thought?'

'Perhaps … but a totally gorgeous, stunning, sexy, hot as hell one.'

'I can live with that.' His last word turned into an indulgent moan as she eased out a knot in his lower back.

'Good?'

'Hm. As were your attentions to me earlier.'

'My attentions of the oral variety?'

He chuckled. 'Yes. You are quite a revelation.'

'You're surprised?'

'Not surprised. I simply hadn't thought of you like that before.'

'Oh come on, you have to be honest. I told you I'd fancied you since school. Go on, indulge me … you never once thought of me in that way.'

He stayed silent. She removed her hands. 'I'll stop rubbing.'

'Please don't.'

'Tell me then.'

'I suppose … in the last year of the war … when you were brought to my house … you did cut quite a striking figure in my hallway. And you were …'

'What?'

'Very brave. Extraordinarily.'

'What else could I be?'

'I was … humbled.'

She stopped rubbing, or rather, she forgot to rub. 'Don't stop,' he urged.

'Humbled?'

'Yes.'

'You never showed me that. Not then or since. Even when I got together with Draco … I thought you hated me always.'

'I avoided you. I didn't want to face up to my own failings.'

'Is that what I represented to you?'

'Perhaps.'

'Lucius …'

'Yes?'

'Why haven't you said these things to me before?'

'Because I hadn't made love to you before. That does rather change things, don't you think?'

'Yes,' she said quietly, rubbing again.

She continued for a while, but then he said, quite suddenly, 'I think you'd better stop now.' He sounded serious.

His request unsettled her. 'Why?'

'Because …' He turned over, revealing himself. 'I can't lie on this any longer.' His cock was erect and hard again and rose up high as he lay back along the seats. She stifled a laugh before leaning over to kiss him.

'Want you inside me again,' she murmured between kisses.

'Don't let me stop you.' His hands were guiding her onto him, and, instinctively now it seemed, she climbed smoothly on and straddled him, sinking slowly down and letting her warm heat engulf him inch by inch. He groaned out and bucked, pushing himself higher into her. 'Gods, you feel like nothing else …'

Hermione leaned over him a little, propelling his cock so that it nudged her perfectly and clasped him hard. He moaned again, his face twisting as pleasure bit hard. 'And you … Mr Malfoy,' she crooned, rolling along him, riding his cock so perfectly it surprised them both. 'Feel like heaven inside me. Are you? Heaven? Are you all I've been waiting for? You are …' She rose up before sinking down again. 'Hard and long and so brilliantly big. You fill me completely.'

'Keep talking, witch. Keep talking and keep fucking me.'

She reached over and grabbed his wrists in her hands, gripping them almost painfully. Bracing herself, she started to work him faster, rising and falling on his shaft with steady momentum, milking him of pleasure. 'You're incredible. Your cock is made for me, your body is fitted to mine. I want you inside me always. I want you to fill me with your cock and your seed. I want it spilling out of me. I want it crammed into me. Give it to me and I'll take it. I'll take all of you, always.'

He was moaning incessantly, beside himself with the physical and mental ecstasy she was giving him.

She rode him ever harder, almost manically now. Her breasts jolted up and down as she bucked along his cock, urging his release.

'Fuck! Fuck, Hermione, coming, fucking coming!'

She didn't slow. She'd pull rapture from him as hard as she could, right to the end. To see this man totally lost to her gave her the most pleasure she'd ever had. As he burst into her, long, deep shots of hot seed, right into the heart of her, she brought a hand between her legs and rubbed her clit demonically, desperate to let her own come out. She did, sharply, crying out as he still twitched and juddered within her.

She lay panting along him and heard a rumbling laugh deep within him. 'Jesus Christ,' he slurred.

Hermione glanced up with a smile. 'You're not allowed to say that. That's a muggle swear.'

'I've run out of anything else. You're incredible. I think you've emptied me. I don't think I have anything left.'

'I'll take that as a compliment.' She stroked his chest softly.

'Take it as anything you want. Just don't go anywhere.'

'I thought you wanted to get me on a train as fast as I could.'

'I've changed my mind.'

Hermione nestled into him. Did the night have to end? 'Can you believe this? You and me, here.'

'I'm trying not to think too hard about it.'

She gave him an admonishing tap. 'Oy! Enough of that. We've closed that book. But … the night will end, Lucius.'

He sighed gently. 'That does tend to happen.'

'And then what?'

'We wait for a friendly farmer, or we walk.'

'I mean after that.'

He fell silent.

'I think you may have spoiled me for anyone else,' she said, looking up at him. 'I think I want more.'

He smirked and gave her a gentle kiss. 'I think I do too.'

'What do we tell Draco?'

'Nothing … Yet.'

'Or Harry, Ginny?' A sudden anxiousness took hold of her. What the hell would they say?

'Merlin, don't tell them.'

'Our dirty little secret?'

'I think that's the safest way to proceed for now.'

Secrecy jarred with Hermione, but on this occasion, she felt a frisson of excitement at the illicit encounters that lay ahead. As long as she could see him again, discover him, learn him, for now, she was happy.

They must have fallen asleep again, and this time, they were too sated to wake up.

There was a noise. A sharp, rapping noise. Hermione forced her heavy eyes open, confused at the sound. She was still lying along Lucius' chest and hated pushing herself up from the warm smoothness of him. She pulled a hand through her chaotic hair and looked about blearily.

She shrieked. There, peering through the window, was a face. A smiling face, admittedly, a jovial, kindly face, but the sudden switch from their cosseted isolation shocked the life from her. And she wasn't wearing anything. The man looking in at them had a prime view of her exposed breasts. Hurriedly, she scrabbled for the first item of clothing she could lay her hands on – Lucius' trousers – and held them up to her. Lucius meanwhile had woken up and was pushing himself into an upright position. The man outside chuckled warmly.

'Morning! Got yourselves into a bit of a jam, I see – but judging by the state of you, maybe I should just leave you be!'

'No! Wait!' she yelled, as the man stepped away from the car to give them some privacy. She managed to struggle into her clothes, then stepped out of the car, straight into a muddy puddle. 'Shit!'

The man laughed some more. 'Right state you're in. You been here all night?'

She nodded. 'We got stuck trying to get to the station.'

'Looks like you made the most of your time together at least.'

'Yeah well, what else is there to do all night? … Sorry you found us like that.'

'Nothing to be sorry for,' he grinned. 'Now look – I can give you a tow out with the Landy or …' He scratched his chin thoughtfully. 'Leave you two to carry on where you left off.'

Lucius had by now dressed and left the car and was trying unsuccessfully to negotiate the mud. Hermione glanced at him. Did their time together really have to end? 'We'll gratefully accept your help. That's really kind of you. Thank you.'

'No problem. I live on the farm over there. Saw you while I was crossing to the sheep this morning. Big storm last night. There are trees down all over the place.'

'That's how we ended up here. There's a tree blocking the Grangeford road,' said Lucius.

The farmer peered at Lucius. 'You the fellow who lives at the Manor? Don't think I've ever seen you out and about before. You keep yourself well hidden, mate. We thought you were some kind of wizard or something!' He laughed loudly.

'A wizard? Now there's a thing,' smirked Lucius. He then extended a hand. 'Lucius Malfoy.'

The farmer shook it warmly. 'Bob Tucknott, from up at Grange Farm. Feel free to pop in sometime.'

'I'm Hermione.' Hermione shook his hand. 'Thank you again for this.'

'Let's get on with it then. I'm sure you'll be wanting a cup of tea after all your activities last night.'

He chuckled to himself as he attached a rope to the Jaguar and then to his Land Rover. After he'd started his engine, it only took a few seconds for the Jag to be released from the mud and onto a firmer part of the road.

After grateful thanks, Bob headed off, leaving them alone again.

'Did that really just happen?' Hermione asked, amazed, staring after the farmer.

'What? I knew it wouldn't take much to get us out. Just a bit of mud, you know.'

'I don't mean that. I mean you offering your hand willingly and introducing yourself to a Muggle.'

He shrugged. 'We needed his help. And he's a neighbour. There is such a thing as good form, you know.'

'My God, Lucius. Do I detect a softening? A change of attitude, perhaps?'

With that he pulled her into him. 'A softening?' He pressed against her. He was hard again. 'Definitely not with you around, Miss Granger.'

They kissed and she never wanted it to end, but then, from what seemed like another world, real life started to assert itself again. Reluctantly, she pulled back. 'Oh God, this is hopeless. I really have to go. If I hurry I may still make it to Oxford on time.'

He was kissing down her neck. 'Come back to me. Hurry back to me.'

Oh God, when he said it like that, all low and rich and muffled … She could just throw him back into the car now and start it all over again … 'Lucius …'

Life! Bloody fucking life!

Hermione forced herself out of his hold and stood away from him. 'Seriously! I have to go!'

He sighed deeply then beckoned her back to the car. Both their shoes were covered in mud which they carried in with them, but then, after the heated events of last night, the car would probably benefit from a clean anyway. Silently, they headed to the station.

Lucius waited with her for the train. There was no one there except a solitary guard who seemed more interested in keeping the pigeons away from his precious platform. They stood, clasped together. 'I'm finished in Oxford on Wednesday. I'll call or text to let you know what I'm doing.'

He raised a cynical eyebrow. She sighed. 'Alright, I'll owl. Really, you should get a phone. It's instant and reliable.'

'Instant is never something I particularly sought, but with you … I may consider it.'

'Ooh, you lovely man. Here's my number. Call me as soon as you get one.' She scribbled her number on a scrap of paper and handed it to him. He looked down, unconvinced, but tucked the piece of paper into his jacket pocket.

The train could be heard approaching. Hermione bit back the urge to weep. How could something so perfect be ending? She reached up and kissed him. He kissed her back, holding as if he'd collapse if not.

'See you soon,' she smiled.

'Promise?'

Lucius Malfoy was begging for her to come back to him. How could she refuse? 'Promise,' she smiled against his lips as the train pulled in.

She reluctantly let her fingers slip from his as she stepped into the carriage, before turning to lean out of the window. 'Phone. Don't forget.'

'We shall see,' he smirked. 'Don't hold your breath. That's a big step for me.'

The train pulled away. She waved despairingly as it slid along the tracks, leaving her lover standing lonely on the platform. Hermione watched until the last moment.

She found a seat and slumped into it, letting her head fall back, thinking back to the remarkable events of the last day. From one Malfoy to another in the space of a few hours. People had been aghast at her relationship with Draco, how the hell would they react to her getting together with his father? She let out a sudden giggle at the absurdity of the situation, prompting a stern look from a woman across the aisle.

But not only had the sex been better than she could have ever imagined, she found Lucius fascinating. How could someone whom she had hated so much,who had hated her, now be consuming her every thought? And from his attitude to her, he was feeling much the same. Wednesday could not come soon enough.

He was certainly changing, but there were a few things she doubted he'd ever concede to. She'd probably have to owl later to get a message to him.

But only an hour into the journey, her phone pinged with a text. _-Will this do? Thank you for needing a lift last night. Wednesday seems like next century. Hurry. L-_

No kiss, but then, that didn't quite seem to fit a former Death Eater anyway. She replied. _-Outstanding! Next stop Twitter. H x-_

 _-Twitter? I thought we were moving away from owls?-_

 _-You still have a lot to learn, Mr M. Thank you for giving me a lift last night. Miss you. x-_

 _-Likewise. x-_

A kiss. The best kiss ever.

Hermione clutched her phone tightly and, a private smile on her face, looked out of the window.

Lucius Malfoy was her lover, and that she was very comfortable with.

* * *

 **Happy times. This is intended as a one-shot, but, like they say, never say never. Hope you enjoyed. I did. x**


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